Spash and Lu – a Fractured Fairy Tale

A story by Bookwormgirl32…'s mom


Chapter 1

Of course you know the story of Cinderella, of how her fairy godmother appeared at a most opportune moment and gave her the chance of a lifetime to hook a rich husband with the aid of a salamander, some rats and a big orange pumpkin. You know how she left the kingdom spellbound at the ball, and how she lost a tiny slipper in her haste to be away before midnight, and that the prince was so smitten at the first sight of her that he sent every page in the kingdom scurrying after her. And of course everybody knows that he found her and begged her to marry him, which she did without delay, and they lived, happily, I'm told, ever after.

But who ever remembered her two stepsisters?

The wicked stepmother that history never saw fit to reveal the name of took a terrible fit at the news of her stepdaughter's marriage and died very suddenly, leaving her silly daughters without hitherto unknown mountains of bills. So many expenses incurred for herself and her girls while Cinderella had been their maidservant! The hapless pair found themselves with dozens of creditors, millinery shops, shoemakers, and tailors that they had patronized in their years of plenty, owing far more than they could ever hope to pay. The girls that had squandered their every penny were reduced to debtors' prison after their home had been mortgaged and finally sold.

This story, however, does not dwell on these unhappy details. Our sisters spent a miserable year in the prison and by this time had worked their way up from barest nothing to a state of extreme poverty as scullery maids in the kitchen of a common inn. Hardly ideal as far as jobs go, the work at least afforded an uncomfortable bed to share, meagre rations, and for Aspasia, the eldest (their real names were Aspasia and Lucretia), the persistent kisses of the innkeeper's cocky young son, Robert, advances perhaps not as unwelcome as she let on.

Aspasia and Lucretia were down in the scullery now, peeling potatoes. They were having a great deal of trouble with it, neither one of them having had much experience in food preparation of any kind. Lucretia had cut her thumb twice with her stubby knife, and between them they had more hacked the horrid spuds into pieces than anything else.

"I was just thinking –" began Lucretia, who was rather plump and the better-natured of the two.

"Oh, shut up!" snapped Aspasia, who was wiry and thin, scowling at the thought of Cinderella never being obliged to peel potatoes ever again. "I don't want to hear what you've been thinking. Anyhow, I know what it was, and, no, it was your idea to go to that wretched ball in the first place."

"Well, no – no, actually, when we got the invitations it was you who thought there'd be plenty of husbands to be caught."

"Yes, and see what came of it! Who would marry a girl who peeled nasty potatoes for a living, I'd like to know?"

"Robert might."

"Filthy lecher!" hissed Aspasia, remembering the last time he had winked at her. She probably would have married young Robert in a moment, had he asked her. Throwing down a potato, she rose to stretch her back. The silly pair had been at work many hours and had barely finished one sack. "Come. I'm done in."

Our girls had trudged off to bed and had been snugly nestled in when the raucous music of a public dance in the town square trickled through a crack in the pane of the fly-spotted cellar window.

"Ooh, Spash, doesn't that music sound just heavenly!" Lucretia purred, with a longing lilt in her voice for the good times long past. Aspasia said nothing for a long time. Suddenly, she sat up in bed like a shot.

"Lu! I think we can go to the dance!"

"How do you mean?"

"Didn't Cinderella say she met a fairy godmother down in the kitchen who helped her?"

"Well, yes, but –"

"You and I are going to find her and get her help. Listen. The dance is in the square, right?"

"Right…"

"So, wouldn't you say there must be plenty of interesting young men who would marry us if we asked them?"

"Probably, but would they remember the next morning after all the ale they had tonight?" (Really, it is an unfortunate fact that too few people were ever aware of what a practical soul young Lucretia was.)

"Oh, shut up. That's their problem. Come on – down to the kitchen!"

And down they ran, Aspasia half-dragging the sleepily protesting Lucretia by the hand. The kitchen, dim and damp on even the sunniest of days, by this time was hardly an inviting place to sit and wait for a fairy godmother who might not even put in an appearance.

They sat and waited.